One of Those Faces
by Sarah1281
Summary: Valjean does not manage to escape before Javert gets a good look at him during The Robbery...and yet the other man completely fails to recognize him. Again. Now Javert has met Monsieur Fauchelevent, Valjean is pressing charges against his attackers, and Marius manages to meet Cosette before following her home. AU.
1. Chapter 1

One of Those Faces

Disclaimer: I do not own _Les Misérables_.

Note: Watching the robbery and how Javert was so close to Valjean and just completely failed to notice him, I wondered what would happen if he _had _gotten a good look at him and still didn't recognize him. It happened before! Sure, he recognized him at the barricade but then he was thinking of his supposed executioner as a traitor and thus a criminal so of course he could recognize Valjean when he looks at him and thinks 'criminal.'

* * *

Jean Valjean had never had normal luck. For the longest time his luck had been nothing but bad and, though he still had his moments (Champmathieu arrested in his place, Javert in Montreuil, right this very moment), he had had his share of almost unbelievably good luck as well. He had met the bishop who had not only accepted a convict but forgave an ungrateful thief, he had arrived in Montreuil just in time to save a gendarme captain's children from fire and thus earned the right to start over, and he had risen from galley-slave to king-appointed mayor. He had had Cosette thrust into his life, escaped the ever-watchful eye of Javert, and had had no trouble since fleeing to that convent they had passed a few years in.

He should have known that his luck was due to change.

That man had looked familiar, vaguely, and his instincts said not to trust him but he had spoken of a dying child and how could he resist that? He did not have to trust this man, just feed him and his family.

But it was Thénardier. Of all the people, after all the years, it was Thénardier. He and Cosette were going about their day as usual, giving alms and helping where they could, and he could not let them get ahold of her again. Some days, he couldn't be sure how much of her life before him she even remembered but no good would come from this reunion.

He was still trying to figure out what to do when he heard a girl screaming about Javert. Not just the police, that was dangerous enough, this was _Javert_. And if these Thénardiers could recognize him, despite his efforts to distance himself from Monsieur Madeleine, after one meeting then how could Javert possibly fail to recognize him?

He was no longer being held in place and made sure to keep his face away from Javert, ready to disappear the moment the Inspector took his eye off of him.

He thought he had his chance when Javert spoke of what scum his would-be attackers were and how, at Valjean's witness, they would be 'suitably paid.'

He had spent enough time in Toulon to not wish that upon anyone but Cosette's safety came first. Not that it really mattered as he could not stick around long enough for Javert to get a good look at him. Unfortunately, Javert had yet to completely take his eyes off of him. Was this some latent law-enforcement instinct?

"You will testify, of course," Javert said, turning his attention more fully on Valjean.

He turned away again. "I really don't want any trouble."

"Nobody wants any trouble," Javert agreed, "and that is exactly why you must testify. There is no shortage of scrum in the streets and so we must do what we can to clear off every bit we are able to. It is especially important in such troubled times as these."

"I have no doubt that you fine men of the police force can accomplish this without me," Valjean had said, keeping his head down.

Javert had evidently gotten tired of Valjean refusing to look at him as he moved suddenly and finally got a good look at Valjean's face.

Valjean, having not expected this, could not hide a flinch. Javert did not seem to make anything of it. In fact, he seemed to make very little of the fact that, after all these years, they were finally face-to-face again.

"Monsieur, it's your duty as a citizen to do your part to clear this scum off the street and make things safe for gentlemen like yourself," Javert said seriously.

Valjean tried not to stare at him _too_ incredulously but it was a challenge. He had spent all this time running from the law (and Javert specifically as he was the keenest pursuer) and now, face to face with Javert, could he _really _not recognize him? Oh, he knew that it had been nine years since they had last crossed paths and that this had happened once before after only eight years but the situations were vastly different.

Javert made his views on the possibility of change distressingly clear and his position of mayor and factory owner had given him a cloak of respectability that Javert could just not reconcile with a convict. Even without his new name and position, he had changed quite a bit physically. No longer as gaunt as he had been in prison or sun-baked, his beard was gone and his hair grown out and style as a gentleman. His attire couldn't be further from his prison garb or the rags they had given him upon his release.

On the rare chance he had caught sight of his reflection in prison or right after being released on parole, he could not see the impoverished peasant he had once been in the miserable wretch he was then and that wretch was just as far removed from the gentleman he had molded himself into. It was little wonder that Javert had not seen Jean Valjean in Monsieur Madeleine. He had changed little since then, however, for all that he had adopted a new name and now had a daughter.

"Monsieur," Javert said again.

"I don't suppose you'll take no for an answer," Valjean said faintly.

Javert shook his head. "In these trouble times we cannot afford to be lax."

But he _could_ afford to just completely fail to recognize someone he had spent quite a lot of time and energy on. He shouldn't complain, however, at this unexpected benediction.

"Inspector," Thénardier finally spoke up. "This 'gentleman' is hardly the honest man you think he is!"

Valjean tensed but could not flee. Javert was still watching and Cosette was here as well. If necessary, he would disavow any knowledge of her but that would put her in an unfortunate position. Should they survive this, he would have to make sure that she knew how to access the money that could suddenly fall to her at any moment. But, he reminded himself, it wasn't as if the Thénardiers really _knew _anything, just suspected. And just when he had thought he might get out of this in one piece!

Javert turned a skeptical eye on the man. "Really."

He seemed to take this as an encouragement and nodded eagerly. "You may not remember this, dear Inspector, but almost ten years ago you came to our humble inn – we've lost it now, times is hard – looking for a child. You being a police inspector and her being a tiny thing, you must have been looking for the man who took her and, I say to you, here is that man! We loved our little Colette and this _bastard _went and stole her from us! You must arrest this foul kidnapper!"

"It's _Cosette_," Madame Thénardier hissed in a tone that made clear that she had had to correct him many times before.

Valjean was still fighting the powerful urge to run but he needn't have worried. Javert's tendency to form an opinion and not deviate from it unless there was literally no other option seemed to be working in his favor for once.

"You cannot even agree on her name," he said disdainfully.

"It has been many years and it was just so upsetting," Thénardier covered.

"And Cosette is _right there_," Madame Thénardier insisted, gesturing to Cosette. What could they possibly want with her after all this time? Nothing good, he was sure. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a boy wearing a cockade staring enraptured at her and she was looking in his general direction as well. That would merit more attention when this was through.

"My daughter _Euphrasie _has never met these people before and neither have I," Valjean lied.

"Of course you haven't, Monsieur," Javert said reassuringly. "No one would believe the word of scum like this. And the thought that a fine upstanding gentleman like yourself could be a mere escaped convict…" He shook his head. "It is laughable."

"If he's your man – and he is – then check his skin for a brand," Madame Thénardier challenged.

Javert gave her a contemptuous look. "The man you speak of has no brand, having been arrested before they were reinstituted. There are other signs of the convict but who can say if they would still be present after all this time? And one does not go around manhandling honest men like that."

The boy had finally managed to remember himself and, taking advantage of the distraction, sidled up to Cosette.

"Hello," he said shyly. "Your name is Euphrasie?"

Cosette wrinkled her nose. "I suppose so but that is only my proper name. Everyone calls me Cosette. Cosette Fauchelevent."

"Cosette Fauchelevent," the boy breathed, sounding as if he were committing the words to his very soul. He frowned. "How does one get from 'Euphrasie' to 'Cosette'?"

Cosette shrugged. "I do not know but I have been Cosette for so long that I would not know how to be Euphrasie."

"Why did your father tell that inspector that your name was Euphrasie then?" the boy wondered.

Cosette thought about it. "Well, I suppose that it would not do to lend an air of credibility to those vile people's story about me. It would just make everything so very unpleasant. We are not strangers to this part of town so it would not be difficult for them to have heard my name."

The boy shuddered. "Yes, Ponine's parents can be…unsettling. I try to stay away from them."

"But you have not told me your name, Monsieur," Cosette said, smiling a little.

The boy staggered back a little, his eyes wide. "You are right! How stupid of me. I am Marius Pontmercy."

"Here is the point where I feel I should introduce myself as well but I've already done that, I'm afraid," Cosette remarked. "And so I shall content myself by saying that it is a pleasure to meet you."

"I…I know that this is very sudden since we have only just been introduced and I'm normally not like this at all but I just want you to know that I…that I…" Marius trailed off, looking almost miserable.

"What is it, Marius?" Cosette asked gently.

"I do not think that I shall be able to go without seeing you," Marius said but Cosette had to wonder if that was what he was truly going to say. "Do you think…is there any chance that I might call on you in the future?"

"We shall have to ask Papa," Cosette said pragmatically. "But I believe that he will agree."

Marius looked a little put-out that he would have to wait to get his answer but nodded his understanding.

* * *

Valjean was not happy that he had had to walk into a police station in order to fill out the necessary paperwork about the robbery that Javert had prevented but he did not have much of a choice about that if he did not want to raise Javert's suspicions. This was the first time he had gone into a police station since had been the mayor and even that, once Javert had come to the post, had been an uncomfortable prospect. The fugitive from the law willingly entering the stronghold of those whose duty was to return him to Toulon.

He was even less pleased that the boy who had been watching Cosette had decided to come with them.

"I was a witness to everything and I wish to do what I can to keep the streets safe in these troubled times," the boy – Marius – had declared boldly, not taking his eyes off of Cosette.

Javert had looked skeptically at Marius' cockade but allowed it.

Javert had been watching him intently while he filled out paperwork and Valjean hoped that his handwriting would not be instantly recognizable to the other man. His face and voice had not been but you never knew what would suddenly make someone remember.

"I feel like we may have met," Javert said slowly.

"Or perhaps merely seen each other," Valjean said easily, having anticipated the question. Javert had seemed strangely downcast at his – entirely true – insistence that Javert did not have a face that he would forget and, at any rate, it was far too Madeleine. "It would not surprise me in the slightest. I travel all around Paris trying to aid the poor and, as a police inspector, I imagine that you are carried to many parts of the city as well."

Javert nodded. "That is true. And that would explain the powerful feeling I have that I have seen you before many times but not being able to recall from where."

"Now that we know each other, we shall be able to greet each other should we pass in the streets again," Valjean suggested, knowing that he would probably turn and go the other way or duck into the shadows should he see Javert approaching again. He could not do this if Javert had already spotted him (for what innocent man hid from the police?) but, despite Javert's strange refusal to recognize him, he did not want to give him more opportunities to come to the truth.

"Indeed," Javert said, nodding again. He looked down at the paperwork that Valjean was filling out. "Ultime Fauchelevent. Fauchelevent…I have heard that name before." He was looking inquisitively at Valjean.

Valjean merely shrugged. "There I cannot help you, Inspector. I have always lived a retired sort of life so I do not know if you have heard of me or one of my relatives."

"It will come to me, I'm sure," Javert said, looking distant. He shook himself. "For all that those people were obviously lying about knowing you, Monsieur, they were correct in one respect. I did see them many years ago and as such I can identify them as the Thénardiers, though they tried to give a different name. They are wanted for several other crimes in Montfermeil and I do not believe that they shall expect to be released again for quite some years. With a little more investigation, they might never be released."

Valjean did not reply.

"You do not approve, Monsieur?" Javert asked, surprised.

"They need to be stopped from hurting other people and I am wary of their particular interest in my Euphrasie but…" Valjean trailed off, sighing. "A lifetime in prison. That is not a fate that I could face easily."

"Nor is it one that I could," Javert agreed. "But that is the reward of being an honest and law-abiding citizen, is it not? We will never have to."

Valjean managed a smile at that but could not bring himself to echo the man's sentiments.

When his report was at last concluded, Marius (who had taken an awfully long time filling his out and needed a suspicious amount of aid from Cosette) approached him.

"Pardon me, Monsieur," Marius said nervously. "I do hope that you are not unduly upset by your recent ordeal."

"I am fine," Valjean said blandly.

"I want you to know that I just happened to be on that street and, upon witnessing what was going on and Inspector Javert's stirring speech about doing one's civic duty, I knew that I had to come with you to try and help put those vile people away," Marius said seriously.

No mention of Cosette, Valjean noticed, but perhaps he was working up to that. "That's very admirable, Monsieur."

"While I was here, Mademoiselle Fauchelevent was such a help to me in filling out the report. We began to talk and discovered that we have a great deal in common. I beg your permission to allow me to call upon you both once this is done," Marius said, equal parts eager and anxious.

Valjean's first instinct (to the idea of anyone calling at all and to the idea that a reasonably good-looking young man might call on Cosette) was to firmly refuse him and then move. It would not be an overreaction since Javert had made a reappearance in his life as well. But he cast a glance at Cosette's pleading face and knew that, since he was in no immediate danger, he could not do that.

Instead he said, "You have not given me your name, Monsieur." Yes, he had heard him addressed as 'Marius' but their introduction had not been official.

Marius winced. "Ah, yes, I always do forget that part. My name is Marius Pontmercy. I come from a good family. My father was a baron and my grandfather, Monsieur Gillenormand, is perfectly respectable. Not that…I am not trying to get ahead of myself but I want you to know that, despite the inauspicious circumstances we have met under, it would not be a mistake to allow me to make your acquaintance."

This awkward boy was the one who Cosette wished to see again? He looked again and she seemed charmed. Perhaps it was just the fact that she did not know anyone else her age. Perhaps he should consider letting her seek out some old school friends.

"You have my permission, Monsieur Pontmercy," Valjean said reluctantly. He considered for a moment before writing his address and passing it to the other man. A written record could be found and lead others to his house but Javert was still in the room and he did not have it in him to outright tell Javert where he lived, even when he was not suspected.

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables.

Marius tried to avoid Éponine's eyes when he returned but she was standing right in front of his door so that was impossible unless he wanted to move in with Courfeyrac and leave all of his things behind. And while that was very tempting, he owed Éponine more than that.

"What happened?" she asked without preamble.

Marius winced. "Ah, Éponine, I…"

"My parents. They were arrested and you went with them and now you're back and they are not. Where are they?" Éponine asked again.

"You didn't go," Marius pointed out. "Why not? You'd know yourself."

Éponine rolled her eyes. "My parents raised me better than that. And don't you dare smirk at that because I didn't mean that jokingly! I was _slightly _involved with what was going on, even if that was just shouting when I saw Javert, and going down to the police station after that would have just gotten me arrested."

That, Marius supposed, was true. "You really shouldn't be involved with your parents' criminal activities, Ponine. You're better than that."

Éponine huffed and looked away the same way she did whenever Marius brought that up. "It's not like I _enjoy _it, Marius. But they're my parents."

"So? My grandfather's a royalist and you don't see me-" Marius started to argue.

"You just don't get it," Éponine said, sighing. "For now I need them. They let me get away with doing far less than they could. But don't try to distract me and don't talk about my parents if you're trying to make me not think about where said parents are."

Marius sighed. He _did_ have to tell her. "Javert said that the evidence against them was strong. Not just for this crime but for several others before they changed their names to Jondrette. He said that they're never going to get out of jail."

Marius watched as Éponine absorbed that, slowly sinking to the ground.

"Éponine?" he asked hesitantly, taking a tentative step towards her.

She shook her head. "I'm fine. I just…Life in prison. Maybe they won't be there forever."

"That…_is _what life imprisonment means, Éponine," Marius told her gently.

"Legally, yes, I know," she said impatiently. "But you're right about my parents. They have been involved in a lot of criminal activities. They have a lot of useful connections. They might break out."

Marius found the thought of a criminal escaping the jaws of justice to be extremely disturbing and couldn't help the shudder that ran through him. "I hope they don't."

Éponine glared at him. "They have their faults but they're still my parents, Marius."

"They _criminals_," Marius countered.

"So might you and your friends be if the police ever get around to arresting you," she snapped. "Don't pretend you don't realize why you hold _secret _meetings."

Marius frowned. "That's hardly the same thing."

"Isn't it? A criminal is a criminal is a criminal is a criminal," Éponine said tiredly. "And if we're going to start making distinctions then I should point out that it's not like my parents are murderers! At least, I don't think so…"

Marius didn't want to hear it. He wasn't a criminal. But Éponine was right in that the fact that someone hadn't gone to jail wasn't enough to stop them from being a criminal. Her parents had probably never gone to jail before this and they were most assuredly criminals for as long as he had known them.

"I'm sorry, Éponine," he said quietly. "Let's not fight. You are never going to see your parents again and so there's no need to argue about them."

Éponine flinched at that and Marius realized that he'd said the wrong thing again.

"No, you're right," she surprised him by saying. "Even if they get out they're not so foolish to come back here. I may run into them again but they most likely won't seek me out. And even if they do, they _can't _come back here. I have the flat entirely to myself."

Some new, wonderful idea had come upon her then and Marius wondered what it was. It couldn't be her desire to live on her own because, criminals or not, it would be too callous for Éponine to be fine with her parents being pretty much dead to her over something like that.

"Épo-"

"I'm sorry," she apologized, cutting him off. She barely seemed to see him. "I have to go."

* * *

Cosette was bursting with questions as they made their way home but she prudently kept silent on that until they were safely inside. Her head was full of questions and Marius (and maybe, just a little, her heart was full, too) but she did manage to keep up a steady stream of chatter on the way home. What she spoke of, she couldn't say, and for once she doubted that her father was actually listening but the sound of her voice, as always, seemed to bring him peace.

That was good because it had been a very strange day and she knew that she was about to bring him even further upset. She wished that this were not so but she could not very well just pretend that today had not happened! That might have worked when she was a child, that might still work on a lot of things now, but her father had been attacked and all sorts of accusations had been made. They were likely completely unfounded, naturally, but they had still gone to a police station and so she needed _answers_.

She waited until he was sitting down and looking consideringly at the bookshelf before she broached the subject. "Papa, what happened today?"

Her father looked up at her. "What happened? Why, you were there and saw for yourself. Those people tried to attack me, Inspector Javert arrived and saved me, and I filled out a report about the incident at the station."

Cosette shook her head. "I know all that but there's just still some things that I don't understand."

Her father got that vaguely uncomfortable and terribly sad look that he always did when she started asking questions. Normally it would deter her but this wasn't just about the past and thus, in his eyes, completely irrelevant. This was something that had happened _today _and she needed to understand to be sure that nothing like it ever happened again.

"Why did those men come after you?" she asked.

She thought she saw her father relax slightly. "They were conmen in an area that is not wealthy. They saw the two of us and saw that we looked better taken care of than anyone else around. We clearly had money and we were sharing it. We were the perfect targets. Even though I did not think to doubt them at first, I would not have you following strange men and so they just found me."

"But then why did they attack you instead of just taking what money you offered?" Cosette asked him.

"They did not say but I assume that they realized that, no matter how generous I was willing to be, I was not going to give them everything that I had with me. It was greed, I suppose," her father said thoughtfully. "Perhaps they even wanted to steal my clothes and sell them."

Cosette shuddered. All of this had been going on so near to her, hidden only by thin curtain, and she had never even noticed. What had she been doing? Looking at Marius. There was no harm in merely looking at a boy but she could not let that stop her from seeing what was important and going on right in front of her. She would never have forgiven herself if that kind inspector hadn't arrived when he had and her father had been hurt or…or worse.

"Those people knew me, Papa," she said quietly.

Her father closed his eyes briefly. "Cosette-"

"They said my name. They knew me," she insisted.

"We are not strangers to that area. It is not surprising if they heard me use your name," her father told her.

Cosette sighed. "I know, I do. I even told Marius that when he asked."

Her father's eyes narrowed. "That boy has been asking questions?"

"He just wanted to know why you called me Euphrasie and why those other people knew my name," Cosette defended. She got the feeling that being inquisitive would not put Marius in her father's good graces.

"There you go," her father said, apparently deciding to let the matter of Marius rest for now. "They heard your name and they used it."

"Oh, Papa, if that were all then I would happily leave it at that but it's _not_!" Cosette cried.

Her father stilled. "No?"

"They seemed to know me and I've been trying to figure out how ever since then and I've been having these strange…flashes, I think, of them. They were…taller but that might have been because I was a child at the time," Cosette said thoughtfully. "I cannot quite remember but the woman looked much younger, no gray hair at all. And they were…bad. They were bad people."

"You will get no arguments from me there," her father agreed.

"How do I know them?" Cosette wondered aloud. "And do not tell me that I am imagining things because I know that I am not! It…it must have been before the convent. But if I knew them then you must have known them."

Her father said nothing.

"You must tell me. I will feel like I'm going crazy otherwise," Cosette said beseechingly.

"We…stopped at their inn one night," her father said finally, reluctantly. "They saw that you were loved and that I had some money. They only saw me the once but they are evidently very good with faces. And I called you Euphrasie because I would not have you dragged into this mess and if I admitted that you were Cosette then Inspector Javert might have felt compelled to investigate. If we should ever see him again, you must remember to go by your given name."

Cosette nodded. That made sense. "But then what was all of that about some criminal the inspector was chasing?"

A shadow passed over her father's face. "That was…it was clearly a desperate attempt for them to escape their punishment. They thought that if I was revealed to be a fugitive from justice then it would not be illegal for them to have attacked me."

Cosette frowned. "That doesn't even make any sense."

"What doesn't?" her father asked carefully.

"Even if you were a fugitive from justice they still attacked you and might have killed you!" Cosette exclaimed. "I'm not an expert on the law but I don't think it would read 'It is forbidden to try to kill someone unless they happen to be a criminal in which case you may do whatever you please.'"

Her father almost smiled at that. "It does not officially say that but you will find that for most people that is understood. Had I been revealed to be a fugitive from justice then Inspector Javert might very well have promptly arrested me and let the Thénardiers and their associates go. He would not have thanked them and that would have put them out and I suppose that is something."

"That's ridiculous!" Cosette declared. "And appalling! If you _were _a fugitive from justice then I would still want them to answer for hurting you!"

"That is very sweet, Cosette," her father said gently. "But what is all this talk of me being a fugitive from justice?"

Cosette giggled. "I suppose it is a little silly. If you were a fugitive from justice we'd be in hiding and not doing things like filing reports at police stations. And I think I'd notice if we were in hiding."

"Undoubtedly," her father said lightly. "I have been meaning to speak to you about that boy that you met."

"Monsieur Pontmercy?" Cosette asked, blushing slightly. "Oh, do tell me you haven't changed your mind about letting him come to call! I would so very much like to see him again."

Her father shook his head. "Oh no, nothing like that. It just struck me as interesting that you were so quickly taken with him."

"He was very helpful," Cosette said, unsure of how to explain it.

"It occurred to me that perhaps the reason that you were so eager to make the acquaintance of this young man is because you have a lack of young people in your life," her father went on.

"I…" Cosette hesitated, unable to fully deny what he said. "I am not unhappy, Papa, and I know how busy you are with your charity."

"I just have never liked the company of too many people, much preferring a more solitary lifestyle," her father said slowly. "But the retired life of an old man is hardly desirable for a lively young girl such as yourself."

Cosette tried to ignore the hope swelling in her heart. "Papa?"

"Perhaps you should write to some of your friends from the convent," her father suggested. "I do not believe that you have seen much of them since we left."

Cosette was so happy that she bent down to kiss his cheek before hurrying to her room to find some paper.

Marius would have been disappointed to learn that her thoughts strayed from him the very same day that they met but they would return to him soon enough.

* * *

It didn't take long to find Gavroche's dwelling. She had never actually been there before but he had told her, more than once, that he lived in an elephant and what else could he possibly mean besides that giant elephant statue?

Unfortunately, locating Gavroche himself was another matter. He wasn't in the elephant so she had to wait until he did show up.

It was rather dull just standing around but this was important and so she wasn't going to leave until she spoke to her brother.

Finally, after perhaps three quarters of an hour, Gavroche came bounding up to her. "Hello, Éponine. Is something the matter?"

"Our parents were arrested," she said, figuring that she would leave it up to him to decide if that was a bad thing or not.

Gavroche nodded. "Ah. So there's no point in visiting my ancestors then. Shame, too, as I was going to do that soon."

"There's no point in _visiting_, no," Éponine agreed carefully. "They're supposed to be in prison forever."

He shrugged. "Don't feel bad, Éponine. I'm sure they'll get out sooner or later."

"Probably," she admitted. "But they can't be the Jondrettes anymore so they can't live in the Gorbeau House."

"Does that mean that you're going to move?" Gavroche asked her innocently. "If you end up out here then you can always share my elephant."

Éponine smiled at his sweetness. "Thank you but no, I'm staying right where I am."

"But they spent all day trying to make money and they still didn't have any," Gavroche pointed out reasonably.

"Yes, well, _they_," Éponine didn't blame him for not calling them his parents; they wouldn't even name him and barely noticed when he took to the streets, "were also terrible about money. Whenever they made anything they spent it frivolously or paying off their debts. I have no debts of my own and I won't pay theirs. The rent is cheap and when I can't pay that I know Monsieur Marius feels far too guilty about what happened to let me get evicted. I'll make it work, somehow. It will be fine."

Gavroche grinned up at her. "I'm glad to hear it."

"But I don't like the thought of living all by myself," Éponine said slowly, knowing that she had to be very careful here or Gavroche would think she was taking pity on him and refuse on principle. "I mean, I've always lived with our parents. It's only been a few hours and already I can't stand being home. It's just too empty."

"You could always get someone else to live with you," Gavroche suggested just like she hoped he would. "Hey, maybe they could even pay part of the rent!"

"I'd have to meet somebody who would want to live in the Gorbeau house and who I could trust," Éponine said, pretending to think about it. "And most people who would say yes would only do it because they think I'm pretty."

Gavroche scowled. "That's stupid."

"Do you know anyone?" Éponine asked hopefully.

Gavroche shook his head. "Nah. I mostly talk to the students and they've all got places to live. Or the other kids but they don't got any money. Sometimes Patron-Minette but you said someone you could _trust_."

"Well…maybe _you _could live with me then," Éponine offered, sounding as tentative as she possibly could.

Gavroche's head shot up and he looked at her in confusion.

"Just until I can find somebody else," she continued quickly. "And you're my brother. Who can I trust if not you?"

Gavroche was quiet for a long while, thinking about it. Finally, he nodded decisively and held his hand out to Éponine to shake.

She shook his hand firmly and smiled at him. "I knew that you would help me!"

"I will pay for part of the rent, though," Gavroche warned.

There was only so much money Éponine was willing to let Gavroche give her, no matter how willingly. If she were a better person, or a richer one, she would not let him pay her at all. But Gavroche wouldn't accept _that _so easily, either. "If you like."

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